Romantic Fatigue
by TheFadedLight
Summary: My name is Bella Swan. I'm thirty years old and convinced myself to sign up for Single 'n' Mingle. Why?
1. You Are NinetySeven Percent Matched

**Romantic Fatigue**

A/N: Stephanie Meyer owns everything, except this plot. Story title borrowed from my darling, Frank Turner.

Enjoy this little tale of Bella and her woes of online dating. Enjoy!

Summary: My name is Bella Swan. I'm thirty years old and convinced myself to sign up for Single 'n' Mingle. Why? [Short Story]

**[Chapter 1: You are 97% Matched]**

"Seriously," I state in disbelief to my computer screen.

I study the information provided by the current profile - male, fifty-five years old, divorced, two kids and lives in Los Angeles. The one picture uploaded shows a man with long, gray hair and receding hairline, squatting proudly in front of a dead Bambi with his 12-gauge rifle. Well, what I assume is a 12-gauge. I have no idea. I don't know anything about weapons.

As if his screen name, Deerhunter56, doesn't scream, 'run the other way', his likes include hunting, NASCAR, Civil War reenactments, beer and a good woman who likes to cook and clean. This man 'winked' at me and even sent an email that said, 'U'. What the fuck does that mean? According to my preferred preferences on Single 'n' Mingle, this is who they deem my perfect match. Thanks for that. And what's with this 'winking' business? I feel like men are leering at me and wagging eyebrows like perverts. Ugh.

I delete every trace of him and rub my tired eyes. Six months ago, I finally mustered up enough courage and said, 'what the hell', and signed up on this online dating site – Single 'n' Mingle. Which, now I'm thinking wasn't such a good idea. I mean, if you abbreviate the company name, it's 'S 'n' M'. Moving on. For four years, Alice, my best friend, would not shut up about the awesome experience she had on the same site. Needless to say, she has all the rights to gloat. Jasper, the love of her life – who in simple terms, is a normal, good looking, twenty-nine year old American boy – adores her.

Me? Yeah, not so lucky. Don't get me wrong, I've had my fair share of relationships. I am appropriately labeled by my friends as a 'serial monogamist'. My first relationship from high school lasted about four years, but we grew up and realized we had nothing common outside of class, football games, prom and making out in the backseat of his beat up Camaro.

During my last year of college, I convinced myself to join a sorority. It would be fun, my mom had said. But it didn't go over too well when I refused to dress in pink hot pants with Greek letters on my ass for a carwash fundraiser. As I left the last sorority meeting, I hadn't been watching where I was going and knocked some poor kid off of his skateboard. Poor Peter. We ended up dating for five years. Unfortunately, he suddenly decided he wanted to become the next Gordon Ramsey and applied to culinary school – in France. France! Really? I guess the commute between L.A. and Paris pretty much killed it. Not that I ever had a chance to find out. The minute he landed in City of Lights, Peter found his soul mate. She happened to work at some croissant shop. Okay, I'm sure it was probably some high end bakery that served crepes too. I just assume people in France only eat croissants, wear berets and break out into sixties style dancing. Thanks SNL for that visual. It sucks, though; I really wanted to visit Europe.

And here we are today, four years later, and nothing. I just turned thirty, work for an insurance company and don't have a love life – at all. I'm surrounded by potential, handsome, successful men at work. Unfortunately, they are either blissfully married or in serious relationships. On top of that, their significant others coincidentally are gorgeous. I'm not joking.

I honestly believe there is something in the water at this company – everyone is satisfied, happy and nice. Like, cult-nice. It's creepy. However, no one has friends or potential friends that they can set me up with because their friends are also either married or super weird. Shit, now I just sound desperate and I'm not. I promise.

'Dammit, Bella. Pull yourself together', I think to myself. Though, I've been on dates, they never went past the first couple. The spark, you know the one they tell you about in movies, the same one that causes swooning, makes you do crazy things and causes that little leg kick when you get kissed? Yeah, that one – it's been missing. The excitement and acceptance of my obnoxious humor was lost on my dates. Now, I'm staring at a computer screen, sifting through a catalog looking for the perfect man.

Like this one, thirty year old male, with the screen name SurfinHB, six feet, blue eyes, brown hair and lives in Santa Monica. He's handsome in a big, football player sort of way and even has dimples - yum. His bio just seals the deal. It starts out with some random reference to 'Shrek' about having layers, like an onion. I send him the standard 'wink' and close my laptop.

Six months of winking and sending the generic, 'hey how's it going' email has become part of my routine without results. My phone beeps and I promptly move on from my 'shopping'.

_Hey. You're going to be at the office tomorrow right? – E_

I roll my eyes at the question, like he doesn't know this. I swear, the man calls, emails or texts me pretty much every day. It's been the same pattern for the last four months. Alice and I joke that he's my BFF. But she has taken it a step further and says that he really likes me because no man would just call a woman at all hours to chitchat, vent and ask questions about work. I tell her to stop it because it put ideas in my head. He has a live-in girlfriend that he actually refers to as 'my girlfriend'. No name, no reference to her name or any indication of her name. They've been together for three years and I have yet to hear him say anything exciting about her. It's an awkward situation, actually.

_Yeah, why? – B_

_I'm meeting with Esme tomorrow, do you know what time? – E_

_You're kidding right? I sent you an invite to your calendar AND talked to you today – B_

_I know! I just want to make sure. Ten? – E_

_Yes, Ten – B_

_Thx – E_

'Oh my God,' I think. He's trying to kill me. He's bananas. I met Edward Masen early last year when he interviewed to become an insurance agent, which I still think is an unusual industry to willingly want a career in. For the last nine years, he successfully worked for another agent. My boss, Esme Cullen is the executive who recruited Edward to branch out and open his own office.

The first time I saw Edward, I almost dropped the handouts I had been copying for Esme. For all intents and purposes, I am an executive assistant, who basically does everything under the sun. The office was dead quiet that day as everyone was on out on appointments.

"_Hello?" A masculine, velvet voice called out._

"_Hey!" I replied from storage room. "I'll be right there."_

_I quickly exited the room and almost fell flat on my face as my heel snagged on the carpet._

"_Are you okay?" He chuckled._

_I righted myself and looked up. I was met with the greenest eyes and the most amused smile I'd ever seen. He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal gray suit with a satin, almost gray-black tie and white collared shirt. His bronze hair had that on purpose disheveled look and the sideburns complemented his angular jaw. He was tall and lean, but not skinny and extremely handsome – not remotely close to whom you associate with selling insurance products._

"_Um, yeah. Thanks," I managed to stutter out. "I'm Bella." I walked towards him and shook his hand. He even had a perfect handshake – firm with the right amount of pressure._

"_I'm Edward," he said as he followed me to my desk. "I have an appointment with Esme today."_

"_Oh, yes!" I recalled. I sat at my desk and quickly scanned her schedule. "She should be here in a couple minutes. Do you want coffee or water?"_

"_Coffee would be great, thanks," he smiled a disarming grin. He's going to be a great agent, I thought. He probably could sell sand to people at the beach._

"_Follow me," I got up and we walked to the adjoining kitchen._

_I started gathering everything I would need for his drink. "So you're going to be an agent, eh?"_

"_Yeah, I hope so," he replied and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm ready now, so it's the perfect time and the opportunity is amazing."_

"_Well that's good," I told him as the coffee automatically poured into his cup. _

_I heard the calendar alert on my computer ding and suddenly remembered I had concert tickets to buy. _

"_Shit!" I exclaimed suddenly and immediately apologized for my crass cursing. "Sorry. Excuse me."_

_I hurried out of the kitchen and as quickly as I could in heels, ran back to my desk. I furiously typed in the web address to the ticket website and waited until the clock changed to ten a.m. I shut out the world and hurriedly bought two tickets. When the confirmation came through, I sighed in relief._

"_Did you get them?" An amused voice asked._

_I hadn't registered that Edward followed me. _

_I grinned back. "I did. I'm afraid if I waited, it would have sold out."_

"_Who are you going to see?"_

"_Oh! It's this band from England. They're doing this whole folk revival type music – banjos, guitars, keyboards – that sort of thing. They're amazing!"_

"_That's great! Who –" he began. The door to the office opened._

"_Edward!" Esme interrupted. She looked impeccable in her stylish matching skirt and jacket. "Glad you could make it. Come on in." She led Edward to her office. "Morning, Bella!"_

Since that day, our friendship thrives on banter. Teasing, texting and endless questions all rolled into one. I want to kill him most days when he asks me the same thing from the day before or when he tells me he's eating lunch at four in the afternoon, but has been starving all day.

When I woke up this morning, I remembered he was coming to the office. Jumping out of the bed, I quickly shower and blow dry my dark brown hair. I apply my makeup – purple and gold shimmery eye shadow and lots of mascara.

Standing in front of my closet, I come to the conclusion that I have nothing to wear. Alice would probably laugh and roll her eyes as my closet overflows with clothes. I just don't want to wear any of it. I finally settle on some fitted black slacks with a royal blue, satin button down with half-capped sleeves. I tuck in my shirt and add a thin, black belt. I add some silver jewelry and my black patent heels. With one last look in the mirror, I am off to work.

The clock now reads fifteen to ten. I, unnecessarily, check my makeup and lip gloss. Within those couple of minutes, the door to the suite opens and Edward confidently enters with his rolling computer case. I stand and walk around my desk.

"Morning, Bella," he greets me with a hug.

"Hey. How are you this fine morning?" I ask.

"Good," Edward answers and we walk into the kitchen where he brews his own coffee. As the cup fills, Edward turns to me. "You will never guess what happened this week. So, get this, my girlfriend got mad at me yesterday."

I arch an eyebrow at him and desperately want to say, 'no, really'. "Why, what'd you do?"

"Nothing, I swear," he laughs. "We had lunch yesterday –"

"That's nice," I lie.

"And we're sitting outside at this restaurant and there are these two little kids playing around. They were cute and I was laughing at their silliness," he continues. "She gives me the glare of death and says, 'I can't believe people let them out in public.' I wanted to laugh but she was already so annoyed that there were kids all over the place."

I almost snort because everything about his relationship is so absurd. "Uh, okay?"

"She despises kids," he says simply. "Can't stand 'em. She doesn't even want them."

"Do you?" I ask curiously.

"Oh yeah!" He replies enthusiastically. He runs his hand through his hair. "I can't wait!"

"And how long have you been together?" I inquire even though I know the answer.

"About three years," he answers. Edward grabs his coffee and takes a tentative sip. No cream or sugar added.

"Red Flag!" I practically yell at him and wave my hand front of his face. His eyes widen and he almost chokes on his drink. "Seriously. You know this, right? She's, what, thirty?" He nods. "She has a very demanding career saving the environment, doesn't want kids, your interests seem to be night and day to each other and you basically share the worst stories about your relationship. So you're together because…?"

"We've been together for three years," he states as if it's the most obvious answer.

"Oh!" I say sarcastically and palm my forehead. "Totally makes sense. What's your type? Do you have one?" I really want to know. Just for my own selfish benefit.

"Yeah, um," he suddenly becomes shy. "Usually beautiful but dumb. When I went out with Tanya, I went the other way. She's the complete opposite."

"And how's that working out for you?"

Edward just looks at me with a curious expression. He's about to say something when Esme enters the kitchen.

"Good morning!" She greets us cheerfully. "Edward, are you ready for your final review before you open?"

"Definitely," he says proudly.

The office phone rings and I excuse myself to answer. I can't believe him. It's hard to have sympathy for his girlfriend when she sounds like this horrible, boring person. But then again, he's with her and they live together. So I blame him too. Ugh, men.

"Bella," Esme addresses me. "Please hold my calls and we'll meet when I'm done with Edward."

"Sounds good," I answer. "Good luck!"

"Thanks," Edward grins. With that they disappear into Esme's corner office.

They meet for over an hour. I can hear their muffled voices and laughter through the walls. Edward finally emerges looking no worse for the wear and asks for his parking validation.

"Just keep doing what you're doing," Esme praises him, her brown eyes sparkling. Her caramel colored hair was swept off of her face in a very chic updo – the look of a put together executive.

"Thanks, Esme," he replies. "I just want to do what's right and be as successful as I can be."

"Exactly. Alright, well I'll see you later."

Esme leaves us while Edward lingers at my desk. But before he could say anything, his cell rings. He answers it and hastily waves goodbye.

"Bella!" Esme calls out. "Do you have a minute?"

"Sure," I answer back just as loud.

We probably have the weirdest boss/employee relationship. Esme and I are very informal with each other – we have lunch together constantly, yell out from our respective offices and have mastered the art of procrastinating. Though she's in her early fifties, Esme's a very hip lady who has a big heart and a passion for the latest gossip.

I bring in my pad and paper – a must to have on hand when you work for Esme Cullen.

"Edward's so good," she begins. "He's going to do very well."

"Sounds like it," I agree. I try not to picture his perfectly handsome face, the depths of those green eyes and his crazy, sexy hair, but fail. Despite his faults, he makes me laugh and I always look forward to his random questions.

"So," she glances at me with a mischievous smile. "You know how I like to have dinner with new agents and meet their spouses prior to them opening their office? You know, to include them in the process of becoming an agent and let them know that it's not about just the agent, but them as well?"

I nod.

"Well, I met Edward's girlfriend," she says lowering her voice. I love this side of Esme. She's blunt and calls it like she sees it. "He needs to break up with her."

"Esme!" I exclaim.

"Seriously, they don't match and they don't interact well with each other," she continues. "He should go out with someone like you. Someone who understands the amount of pressure being an agent is and fun. You'd bring out the best in him and that says a lot about a person's character. It's just a feeling."

I laugh. "That'd be something. Then I'd finally be able to go on all these reward trips!"

Esme nods her head knowingly. We turn back to business after that and I have a slew of appointments to schedule for her. When I leave the office, I remind myself to not wish badly on someone's relationship. It's just bad karma.

My phone pings with an email alert. I check it quickly and see that someone 'winked' at me. Rolling my eyes, I quickly click on it. Dammit! This time it's a forty-five year old male, DavidLeeSchwartz, and apparently in a Van Halen cover band. In almost every photo, he's dressed as David Lee Roth – shaggy hair, sailor hat and spandex. I just shake my head. I give up. As I delete that email, another one pops up from the same guy. This time he has added me as a 'favorite'.

Oh my God. Where are the normal men? Seriously. Isn't this the reason people pay to be on a dating site? I've read so many profiles that sound like mine and NOTHING! What gives? Am I using the wrong angles in my photos? Is it because I don't exercise five times a week and am looking for someone who shares the idea of 'staying fit and maintaining a healthy lifestyle'? That line kills me. I don't want to hang out at the gym for fun, especially with my other half.

After I leave work, my thoughts consume as I drive home. The more I think about it the angrier I get. The L.A. traffic doesn't help either.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I scream at the car that cut me off and lay into the horn. Who knew that road rage would help cool the dating rage in me?


	2. Subscription Cancellation Confirmed

A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns everything, except this plot. Story title is borrowed from my darling, Frank Turner.

M rating in please for a reason, kids. Enjoy!

**[Chapter 2: Subscription Cancellation Confirmed]**

'Renew your subscription', the screen prompt blinks at me. My finger hovers over the Cancel button.

"What are you doing?" Edward nuzzles my neck, which in the normal world would be terribly romantic, but since I'm me, I scream. And I don't mean I was just a little startled. Arms are flailing and I think my head made nice with his nose. "Jesus, Bella!"

"Oh my God!" I stand up and am about to kneel down to his level, when I remember that my laptop screen is open. Edward squints at me with one eye and actually raises an eyebrow when he sees me quickly close it. "What?" I asked.

He slowly gets up and backs away from me. With his fingers still pinching his nose, he darts around me and grabs the laptop.

"No!" I yell. For someone who just got nailed in the face, he's a dodgy little bugger. I, of course, chase the idiot around his living room. "Edward Masen, you give me back that fucking computer or I swear to God, I will punch you in the junk!"

That stops his socked feet instantly. He actually groans a little and brings the laptop in front of his hips, as if it would protect him.

"Drop it," I state in my most stern voice. God, this is so embarrassing. I never told anyone that I had been on that damn site for over a year with no success. My renewal came up and since I started dating this clown over a month ago; I think I'm stuck with him for a while, so Single 'n' Mingle – your services are not needed.

Three months ago, Edward texted me and told me that he was newly single and looking for an apartment. Apparently, Tanya, had enough of Edward having fun – well that's what he said. After literally poking him for twenty minutes at lunch one day, he finally told me the real story - Tanya decided that she wanted to save the Alaskan wilderness from human destruction and moved into an igloo on a glacier.

"_Wait, what?" I asked him. "Did I hear you right? Your girlfriend –"_

"_Ex-girlfriend," he corrected me._

"_Ex-girlfriend," I repeated, "decided that she wants to be the next Erin Brockovich and moved to the frozen tundra of twenty-four hour sunlight or darkness."_

"_Yes," he simply replied._

"_Um, you do know it's like five guys to one girl up there, right?" I laughed._

"_Yeah," he shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich. "But what can you do? She wanted out and I let her go."_

"_Huh," I mumbled._

"_What?" He asked_

"_Well, now that you're officially done, I just have to say, you had the WEIRDEST relationship, I'd ever seen in my entire life," I blurted out. "Seriously."_

_Edward burst out laughing. _

He asked me out a month later and for the last four weeks or so, hasn't shown the same behavior he had with the ex. Ha! The Ex. According to her Facebook timeline, she's still in Alaska and can be found shopping at the local BabiesЯUs or whatever friendly, local baby stores are established in the 49th state. Yup, she's preggars and ecstatic about it. Must be that five to one ratio because seriously, how the hell does that happen and so quickly? Not the baby making part, thank you very much.

"What are you hiding, Love?" He asks which brings me out of my thoughts. Edward waves the closed computer in the air.

"Nothing, now hand it over," I plead. I even purse my lips into a pout and widen my eyes, like Puss in Boots. I sit on the couch with my hand stretched out. I want to crawl into a hole right now as I feel my face heat up.

"You're blushing," he comments.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," I reply rudely. I lightly pat my flaming cheeks and briefly close my eyes.

I get up and decide that I'm not going to get my computer back and what the hell, he'll find out anyway. So, I walk out of the living room to his bedroom and shut the door. I bury my face in the pillows, but it starts suffocating me, so I turn my head and just lay there. A few moments later, I hear the door open and the bed dip with Edward who lightly smacks my ass.

"Seriously, what's going on?"

"Nothing, I don't want to talk about it," I mutter into the pillow.

He begins to run his fingers down my back in a very soothing motion.

"Ba-by," he says in a sing-song manner. His mouth is right on my ear and kisses my temple ever so lightly. "Please?"

I keep my eyes close and relish in his warm touch. I slightly shake my head in protest. Edward cannot be deterred. His lips blaze a trail from my ear down my neck. When he reaches the juncture between my shoulder and neck, he gently rolls me onto my back.

His green eyes gaze into mine and I am instantly lost in them. I've never seen such a color with so many shades blending to create the most beautiful peepers ever. I may be a little biased. Tracing his face with my eyes, I internally sigh at the gorgeous man hovering over me. His face is perfect – angular jaw, lopsided sexy grin, and an impeccably straight and narrow nose. His crazy hair hangs over his forehead as he leans close to my face.

The moment his lips close in on mine, I'm done. "Dammit," I mumble against his mouth.

Edward slightly pulls back and raises his eyebrows in question.

"You can't just kiss me like that and make me forget my mortification," I ramble.

"Love, what are you embarrassed about? Did you accidently post yourself singing in the shower on YouTube? Because that would make anyone run for the hills," he chuckles.

My steely reserve breaks and I crack a smile. I slap his shoulder lightly. "That really hurts, you know. The shower's the only place where I can perfect my harmonies. The acoustics are perfect."

"Bella, just because the walls echo doesn't mean you're on key," he laughs.

I narrow my eyes in mock anger. "Oh yeah, because your voice is SO great, Mister 'I got booed off the karaoke stage'. It's unheard of! No one gets kicked off while doing karaoke. That's the point!"

"That was on purpose and you know it!" He argues. "I didn't want you to feel bad."

"Me, feel bad? Baloney!" I reply. "I didn't know my voice offended you so much."

"You're getting mad, I'm sorry," he lightly chuckles.

"I'm not mad," I huff.

Edward finally relaxes over me and rests his head on my shoulder. He kisses my neck. "Spill."

I groan and rub my hand over my eyes. "You can't tell anyone. I'm swearing you to secrecy. If I find out you blabbed," I threaten him, "you're SOL on blow jobs."

Edward sits up rapidly. His eyes widen in surprise and fear – or maybe it's a mix of both. "Excuse me?" He coughs. "You'll withhold that? Why not sex?"

"Why would I punish myself as well? I like having sex. It takes care of my cardio for the week," I joke. "Sucking on your dick brings you to a state of bliss, but where's my benefit?"

"What about when you swal-"

"Do not finish that sentence, Edward Anthony," I say as I cover his mouth. I can feel him smile beneath my palm.

"I apologize. I just merely was stating the nutrition facts –"

"Stop!" I screech. "Seriously! I don't know want to know about the pros of swallowing your cum!"

"Ha!" He barks out a laugh. "I got you to say it."

I shake my head.

"God, I love making you say embarrassing things. Your face just contorts in mortification as if someone's going to catch you saying something 'vulgar'."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I say as I roll my eyes. "You want to know or not? I can just go start dinner while you ponder my deep, dark secret."

Edward sits up straight and cross-legged. I pretend to get out of the bed and he lightly grabs my arm to stop me.

"Where's the computer?"

He points to the dresser. I quickly pick up the little pink Macbook and set it between us. Taking a deep breath, I flip open the lid. There, for the world to see is the cancellation screen.

"Whoa," he comments.

I was about to click the confirmation button, when his hand stops me.

"Can I see your profile first?"

"Oh God, no."

"Please, Love?"

I shove the laptop in his lap. "Have at it."

I get up and leave the bedroom. I can't sit there while he studies my dating profile. It's hard enough just trying to come up with something interesting to say about myself and choose pictures that show more than a face in a perfectly angled shot. I start to pull pots and pans out of the cabinets – loudly, I might add. I slam the utensil drawer, run the garbage disposal and turn on the stove fan. The distraction is perfect. I gather the ingredients for tacos and begin to cook the meat.

Because I was singing a song in my head, I didn't hear Edward approach me. He wraps his arms around my waist. Instinctively, I lean back and relax in his strong grip. He reaches to turn the burner of the stove off.

"Excuse me!" I exclaim. "I was cooking, you know."

"We can eat later," he says lowly. His hair tickles my ear as he kisses my shoulder. I turn in his arms and briefly make eye contact before looking away.

I take a deep breath and lean my forehead against his chest. Edward lifts my chin with his finger and slowly leans in to kiss me. The moment our lips meet – softness and warmth, I am lost in the sensation. I open my mouth and his tongue immediately seeks out mine. As our kissing intensifies, I throw my arms around his neck and hold on tight. His hands wander around my back and our breaths noisily escaped our noses.

Edward's kisses me hard before trailing his warm, wet mouth down my neck to the center of my chest. He roughly pulls down the straps to my tank top exposing my breasts. My nipples immediately harden from the air and his hands immediately zone in on them. I moan softly as his thumbs sweep over each peak. Just as I'm getting used to his hands massaging and squeezing, his mouth replaces his thumbs and I swear, I squeaked. I move my hand in his hair, relishing in the silkiness of it.

"Please," I beg him. He stops and looks at me. His smirk fully in place. "Don't stop!" I practically scream.

"Give me your leg," he prompts. I lift it and he wraps it around his hip. "The other one too."

He holds me as my legs twist around his torso. His cock is rock hard against me and I moan from the friction. Without breaking our kissing, Edward leads us to the couch where he lays me down and begins to assault my neck with his lips, tongue and even his teeth. With my legs still wrapped around his hips, I pull them tighter. I try pulling his t-shirt over his head, but our bodies and arms are too tangled around each other.

I loosen my grip on his hips and we pull our own shirts off. Edward lifts himself off of me and drops his pajama pants. I stare at his lean body and feel myself breathing deeply in anticipation. His face is serious as he pulls off my lounge pants. I lay there, naked and extremely wet. Just looking at that man sends me into a frenzy.

"Stop staring, Masen," I practically growl. I reached for him and he slaps my hand away.

Edward smirks and leans forward. Without breaking eye contact, he slides his finger between my legs and in a circular motion swirls it around. I am completely wet with desire and scratch my nails down his chest. Without pausing, his lips capture a nipple and he begins nipping and sucking as if his life depends on it.

"Holy fucking shit!" I scream out. I look down to see his sly grin.

He moves his mouth to the valley between my breasts and looks up.

"Goddammit, Bella, you are so fucking wet," he says lowly. Suddenly his hand flies down to his straining cock and he rubs the head against me while his other hand never stops its motion against my clit.

I just lay there panting. My hands stray from hair to his shoulders. "Fuck, babe."

"Oh I am," he replies

In one fluid motion, Edward sits up and slams himself into me. I nearly scream from the rawness. I wrap my legs back around him and meet his every thrust. He pulls my hips up higher and the angle shifts where his dick hits me deeper and harder. I watch the muscles in his torso tense with each motion. I can see my breasts bounce from every movement. Everything around me fades except for the sound of our slick skin slapping and moans of pleasure.

"Harder!" I scream. Edward responds by grunting and holding my hips in a death grip. "Oh my God! Edward!"

"Bella! Shit!" He growls.

In a matter of seconds, I climax so hard that I swear I black out. Edward follows and collapses on me. Both of our bodies are rising and falling with our heavy breaths.

"What brought that on?" I gasp out.

Edward chuckles between catching his breath. He kisses my chest above my heart and looks up at me. I wipes his brow and wait for his answer.

"You're mine," he states. "I can't stand the thought of you being on display like that. Online. You. Are. Mine." He punctuates each word. "And I took the liberty of deleting and cancelling your subscription."

"Oh really," I arch an eyebrow at him. "_You _cancelled my subscription. Excuse me, what if I wasn't done browsing?"

"Yeah? You want to keep sifting through those assholes?" He's trying to bait me. I can feel it.

"Maybe," I reply haughtily.

"Am I going to have to remind you that you are mine and mine alone?" He narrows his eyes at me but keeps his smirk firmly in place.

I just raise my eyebrows, as if to say, 'be my guest.'

Edward slams his lips against mine and proceeds to remind me. Twice.

Needless to say, I got exactly what I want and didn't need a computer to find my perfect match.

**[The End]**


End file.
